


Manhunt

by awfulq



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Angst, Psychological Horror, Stalking, Suffering, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23540233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfulq/pseuds/awfulq
Summary: Willow has had many unpleasant encounters with the MacTusks. After all, in a game of endurance through the cold, she loses.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	Manhunt

Willow woke with a start. She could feel eyes on her from the darkness- and she could tell it wasn't Maxwell. This feeling of being watched could only mean...  
Oh, fuck.  
Flicking her lighter open, she heard a bark somewhere in the shadows. Fuck, fuck, fuck- The MacTusks.  
There was no time to think. She had to move, or there'd be no time at all. Quickly, she grabbed her backpack, and started into the night. Not far behind, she heard them, heavy footsteps trudging through the snow. When she was little, Willow had heard about walruses- their big teeth weren't so bad when they were nowhere near her. Now, up close, they were horrible. They must have been at least as long as her forearm.  
She had never seen what happened when she died to them, but her imagination was certainly not kind to her in that respect. Unfortunate, because she very rarely escaped them. The thing about the hunters, was that they never stopped. They just kept following... Following... Waiting for you to grow too tired to keep going. To run out of food. To succumb to the cold. To make one wrong step, and they would finally close in on you, after wearing you down for so long.  
It wasn't looking good for the firestarter. It had barely been an hour and she was already growing cold. She hadn't had time to grab any of her winter clothes, and she mentally cursed herself for not having them on hand. She should have known the MacTusks would find her eventually.  
All she had to keep her from freezing was the rapidly cooling thermal stone. Usually she had Bernie, but he had been torn up by spiders a few days prior in a desperate attempt to get some food.  
...Oh, fuck.  
She didn't have any food.  
She hadn't even realized how hungry she was until she remembered that little fact.  
Maybe she could find something to distract them long enough for her to get away, to find something to eat, to get a fire going.  
If she was lucky, she'd be able to stop for a moment to grab some seeds- she'd lived off them before, she'd do it again.  
...Wait. Why did it sound like there were more footsteps than before...?  
No. No fucking way.  
Another clan of MacTusks?  
God fucking dammit- Why did Maxwell put so damn many of them? Shit, shit, shit, her mind was running off thoughts of what would happen if she stopped now.  
What did hunters even do with what they caught? Would she be eaten? Have her head be staked outside their hut? Just be left dead in the snow?  
None of those sounded good.  
Willow was searching her memory as best she could while jogging for her life. Think, think... There were beefalo not far from where she was, if she could just remember the direction--  
Left?  
She veered to the side, breaking into a sprint. Peeking out from the shadows, she could see tufts of grass-- Yes, this was the right way. If she could get a little further ahead..!  
Behind her, the steps were speeding up to match her pace, but she was ahead. The smell of the herd hit before she saw them, and she barreled ahead, pushing through the slumbering creatures, running, running-  
She didn't stop until she heard one of them bellow its war cry, waking up the entire herd.  
She stooped down, hands on her knees, breathing heavily. A pain was starting to spread through her, and it wasn't just a cramp. She may have outrun the MacTusks, but she couldn't outrun the cold and starvation.  
Willow dropped to the ground. She had to find something to burn. Light, she needed light so she could find something to eat. She crawled forward until she hit tall grass... Hands shaking, she lifted her lighter to the tinder, closing her eyes as the scent of smoke filled her lungs.  
The snow crunched.  
There was a loud huff.  
She opened her eyes.  
Lit by the fire, she finally saw where she was.  
"Fuck you, Max," she mumbled, defeated, looking up the snout of a blue hound, which was closely tailed by its owner- a large, angry walrus.

**Author's Note:**

> If I can't find any Willow centric fic that isn't ship, I'll write it all myself


End file.
